


Missing you

by Firgolfin



Series: Cullen and Surana [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, Longing, angsty ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firgolfin/pseuds/Firgolfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surana has left the Ferelden Circle to join the Grey Warden, leaving Cullen behind. He misses her, and the fact that nearly every place in the tower reminds him of her, doesn't help at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing you

**Author's Note:**

> You can read here what has happened before: [Do you think we'll meet again?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3686304)  
> Cullen and Surana, secretly in love with each other, are breaking the rules: they spend Surana's last night in the tower together.

_**********_

 

_Cullen. This is my last night in the circle._

_I... I want to spend it with you._

_Yes... please, don't stop..._

_You are so wonderful. You... feel... so wonderful... Cullen, I..._

 

He awakes, blinking unpleasantly as the first flash of the morning sun falls into his room and upon his face.

_What? Is it really morning again?_

Covering his eyes with one arm, Cullen shifts his weight in the small bed and groans. No, he's not ready yet, not ready to open his eyes again, not ready to let go of his dreams. Peaceful, warm dreams. These first moments at the morning are always the best ones. When dreams are mixing up with memories, it feels like a soft and sweet smelling blanket wrapped around body and mind, and happiness floods him.

He's dreamed of _her_ again, of shared smiles and sweet kisses. Of gentle touches, muffled moans, entangled limbs. She is close now, her very presence lingers in his sleepy mind, and he can smell her, hear her, _feel_ her again.

_Surana..._

But soon, too soon his thoughts are clearing up and realization hits him again.

Surana is gone. She's left the circle and she won't come back. He remembers and sadness mingles with earlier happiness, and it's somewhat strange. How can one be happy and sad at the same time?

Is this what love feels like? He doesn't know.

He pushes himself up and out of the bed finally and rubs his eyes, rubbing dreams and sleep away, but Surana remains, swirling around in his head. A splash of cold water into his face helps him awaken further, but still, she's there. And he welcomes it, for memories are all what's left of her.

He begins putting on his armor. Time for daily duties.

 

**********

 

He walks through the mage corridors, patrolling, observing, maintaining peace as are his commands and he fulfils them with proud and honor. Or so he does usually, because today he finds his mind wandering again.

The fact that nothing ever happens most of the time (what he appreciates very much, because there's literally nothing he hates more than being forced to hurt or hunt down the ones he's sworn to protect. Some of his templar brothers seem to enjoy such nasty matters, but he doesn't, not at all; in fact every single harrowing he's supposed to watch over makes his guts clench and his stomach hurt in worry and hope that he doesn't have to kill a poor soul), anyways, he's somewhat bored and it doesn't make it easier for him to stay concentrated.

And how to stop thinking of her when everything in this huge building, every room, every floor, every corner reminds him of Surana?

He sees her as he passes the library, she's sitting there with her nose buried deeply in a large, dusty book, head leaned heavily upon the heels of her hands. He sees her smiling this beautiful little smile whenever she notices him walking by. She shoves a strand of hair behind her pointed ear, but it always falls back after a while. He loves that she doesn't bind her hair back. It looks wonderful the way it spreads across her back, free and untamed and framing her face so beautifully.  
Her temples are, as often, reddened by the constant pressure of her hands.

He sees her again as he enters the mage's dining room, his eyes wandering to the table where she's used to be sitting, encircled by her friends, eating, laughing, sharing stories.

He remembers her first shy flirting attempts, exchanged glances, brief touches which have always seemed to be random, but in fact haven't been _quite so_ random.

And he sees her in empty rooms, dark corners, behind the large shelves of the library, all those secret places which only the ones who live in the tower know, and he remembers how they've met at those places, talking and laughing freely together. And then the very rare kisses they've shared, sweet and shy at first, eager and hasty later.

_Oh, I miss you. I miss you so much._

The days in the tower seem to be longer and a tone lonelier, now that she's gone.

 

**********

A short, but sharp sting of guilt hits him in the guts as he passes Surana's former quarters and Cullen's feet are stopping almost automatically in front of her door.

 _No fraternization between templars and mages_ , the rules are strict, and they all have learned them right up from the beginning. And Cullen has never been a man for breaking rules, no, in fact he considers himself very good in obeying them, and he has always been proud of himself.

And yet he's broken them.

 _Cullen_ , she's asked him that very night as he has stood exactly where he's standing now _. Don't you want do come in?_

Yes, oh how badly he has wanted. And he has _done_ it. If someone had told him some time before, he would have laughed and shook his head at the thought alone. But thinking of it now, he realizes that, though he feels kind of guilty, he does not regret it.

Not at all.

He smiles at the memory. A fast glance at the corridor, left, right, _no one's there_ , and he finds himself sneaking into her room. Again. He closes the door and leans against the massive wood for a moment, taking everything in. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he lives that very moment again when he has known–they both have known–that they've been about to sleep together. He takes one, two deep breaths and closes his eyes for a moment, calming himself down before open them again.

The room is still the same as she's left it, but emptier now, waiting to be inhabited by another mage. The few things she's owned are missing, of course, she's taken everything with her, like her books, garments, a few vials of oils and perfumes, and–most precious for her–a big bunch of loose parchments and note books in which she's written down and sketched everything she's learned about herbs and plants and their effects and healing powers.

 _I'd prefer to use my magic for helping and healing people_ , she's always said, _not for destroying anything._

 _Mages are dangerous_ , the chantry says, _they must be observed carefully_ , they've taught him. That's what the templar order stands for, and he believes in it, strongly.

But... he just can't see anything of this in her. She's the nicest person he's ever met in his life.

My love, my dearest, my gentle, caring Surana.

He walks towards the bed and grabs one of the pillows. He buries his head into the soft fabric, inhaling deeply, and–is it imagination or truth, he doesn't know–but he smells her again.

Oh Maker how much he misses her. That one night they've spent together, it means everything to him, and she has been so right, telling him, n _o one can ever take these memories from us._

It's been one week and one day now since she's left the tower with the grey warden Duncan, seemingly an honorable man at least, traveling to Ostagar, where dark spawn forms up and the threat of war darkens the air.

And all he can do is hope and pray for her safety, so he does.

 

**********

As he passes Greagoir on the way through the corridors, a new sting of guilt–or is it fear this time?–hits him.

What if the Knight-Commander finds out? What if _anyone_ finds out?

But Greagoir only gives him the same short nod as always before continuing his way, and it takes everything in Cullen's self-control not to sigh in relief.

**********

"Hey Cullen," Carroll asks him one evening over a game of cards, "heard anything of Surana?"

"Uhm..." Cullen feels the heat–the treacherous blush creeping up his neck, and he hates his body for betraying him.

"N–No," he stutters, "why... why should I?"

"Come on," the other templar knocks his shoulder in a friendly gesture, "as If I wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't know... what?"

Carroll rolls his eyes. "Still so secretive? Everyone in the tower knows that you like her. And that she likes you." He grabs Cullen's shoulder and squeezes it. "Hey, I'm sorry that she's gone, man."

But Cullen only hears _like her_ , and not _slept with her_ , and Carroll has always been a man who talks freely, so he likely doesn't know at all?

"Uhm, yes, thanks," he answers and gives his friend a nod, hoping that his relief isn't too obvious.

They continue their game and Cullen loses, but doesn't care. Carroll doesn't know. And if not him, then the chances are good that no one does, except of himself and Surana, of course.

About the rumors and whispering, yes, he's aware of the fact that people know about his affection (Maker, has it really been so obvious? It has, apparently). He doesn't speak often about it, and when he does, then only with his best friends, but he has learned now that he's not very good at hiding his feelings. Well, so be it.

He's also used to the glances and glimpses from both, mages and templars, used to pitiful expressions, used to mockery, and he doesn't know how to handle anything of it, so he tries to ignore it.

 

**********

 

The sun has long disappeared behind the horizon as Cullen retreats into the templar quarters.

He kneels down for his night prayer, in which he always includes Surana.

_Oh Maker, please hold your guarding hands over her and let her be safe._

After the prayer, he takes off his armor, then washes himself before sitting down on his bed in his undergarments. He looks through the books which lay in stables all around his bed and wonders if the library misses them already; but then he finds what he's been searching for, a book called "Of herbs and their effects". He leans back with a content sigh and starts reading, a smile on his face. Yes, Surana really has influenced him in more than one way.

Later, his eyelids heavy with tiredness already, he puts the book aside and blows out the candles, ready for drifting into peaceful sleep.

He hopes that he'll dream of her.

 

**********

 

He awakes in darkness. It's still night, and something feels wrong.

_Why am I awake?_

A scream, dreadful and shrill, halls through the corridor and Cullen nearly jumps off the bed, wide-awake in an instant. His heart thunders in his chest, hard and fast. Fear and adrenaline shoot through him as he grabs his sword.

_What's happening?_

Another scream. Louder now. Closer.

_Maker, no..._

 

_**********_

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanon is that not only Cullen spends the night with the soon-to-be warden before she leaves the circle, but also that his sleep and dreams are always peaceful, joyful, until... Kinloch Hold happens.


End file.
